Patchwork
by wutaistars
Summary: How well could you know someone you've known all your life? Drabbles on members of the Weasley family.
1. Chapter 1

**Written for Morning Lilies' Connect the Weasleys challenge at HPFC. ****Prompts: Teddy-Victoire, first kiss**

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_Changing is what people do when they have no options left. -Holly Black_

**PART 1**

**Shift**

Teddy Lupin is a quiet boy with a quiet life.

In school, he never stuck out in any way—he inherited his father's muted features and his mother's slight build, and his grades were comfortably camped in the E to A range. The desire to cook up trouble eluded him, and his participation in Quidditch was limited to respectfully clapping for his house's team when they score. Sometimes, when he was feeling bold, he would congratulate the team captain for a good game. Supposedly, he could turn his hair pink (by reports, his mother's favorite hair color), or switch his nose for a pig snout, but it remains supposed.

He is a quiet boy with a quiet life.

Work is at St. Mungo's, brewing antidotes and tonics for the ailing magical folk who visit the hospital. Few of the Healers ever get his name right, but they nod at him in the hallways. None of them visit the Potions unit, and he preferred it that way. Silence is perfect ingredient ratios.

Also, he can't quite accommodate any more excitement, as his personal provocation quota is fulfilled exclusively by the Weasley family. As such, the recent development he has introduced in his life struck him as true to form. For one, it involves a couple of Weasleys. Well, it used to involve only one, but now the entire family might be.

He can't get over the irregularity of his current situation. He was _Teddy Lupin_, he didn't skip work to see people off to anywhere, not even people he fancied. He certainly didn't attempt to kiss people goodbye, only to be discovered by James Potter.

"Go away, James," he said, pushing his godfather's son into the throng of people. He stared at the scarlet paint of the Hogwarts Express, at the students with their school trunks, at anyone but the girl in front of him, who was trying very hard not to laugh.

"Well, so much for a memorable good bye. I tried," he said. He did, really. He spent a week planning the perfect send off for Victoire—rehearsing what he would say, picking out the robes he would wear, and even considering the logistics of how he could kiss her memorably for the first time before she could board the train back to Hogwarts.

This moment would be remembered, all right, but for the wrong reasons. Now she would leave for school. Beautiful, smart Victoire, could have any guy she wants. He was starting to feel nauseated. Maybe this was fate's way of telling him that he's over reaching. She's out of his league, and no amount of time he'd spend with her family would make him good enough. Nervously, he checked his watch. A little before eleven; what a disaster.

"Teddy," she said, and his head snapped back up. She had her face so close to him he was going cross-eyed. "How do you honestly feel about me?"

Was she one of those twisted types who loved rubbing salt on injuries? He searched her face, but all he saw was her usual sunniness. Since he didn't have much time, he thought he might as well get on with it.

He held her face in his hands and leaned in, and everything seemed to slow down.

"Well," she said, after they broke off, "That was very clear."

He nodded, and absently watched her climb the train. She moved out of his view as the doors slammed shut, only to reappear at a window a while later. She waved at him, half laughing, half crying.

"Teddy! I feel the same way!" she said. "I always have!"

As the train rounded a corner and disappeared from view, Teddy reflected that he would need to start getting used to plenty of excitement.

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**The first in (hopefully) 78. Do tell me what you think! Send me a message or a review. Hope you enjoyed :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Written for Morning Lilies' Connect the Weasleys challenge at HPFC. ****Prompts: Victoire-Dominique; fireworks**

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Victoire wanted to run down the Hogwarts Express, scream out the windows, hug the first years (they look _terrified _of everything, bless them), and do cartwheels. She wanted to slap herself silly. She wanted to cry. Again.

Teddy likes her back.

She took a deep breath and walked, calm as you please, to a particular compartment. Inside were four Ravenclaws, one of whom was her reason for being there.

"Hi," she said, making eye contact with someone, "Can you spare a second? Outside?"

She wasn't a particularly shy person, but she always did this when emotions were involved. When the dam breaks, call Dominique. That's protocol. To confide in anyone else seemed embarrassing. And her sister understood, coming out of the compartment without question, closing the door behind her.

"What's the matter, Vic?"

* * *

So many times has this scene played out in their lives, Victoire wondered how they'll manage when they have their own families.

"Are you alright?" She remembered saying. It was an afternoon in the week before fourth year, when she found her sister balled up in a corner, shoulders shaking in mute sobs.

"I think it's scorched. It hurts, so much," the younger girl stammered, burying her hand in a damp towel. When Victoire finally managed to pry the towel out of Dominique's clutches and look, she felt like she'd been doused with ice water. A few feet from them was a box of Miniature Wildfire Whiz-bangs. Victoire's box of Miniature Wildfire Whiz-bangs.

That day, she learned how to clean her room, heal a mild burn, and hold her tears in.

"Why'd we have to go all the way here?" Dominique said, almost a year later, when she followed her older sister to a far-flung cove off the beach. Only the roof of Shell Cottage can be seen from this far, and she stared at it as she waited for Victoire to respond.

"I'm a prefect," she finally said. "A prefect."

"Are you serious? That's great! What's so wrong about that?"

"I'm not you," she said, wringing her hands. "When you talk, you make people listen."

Dominique hugged her sister. "But people like you. You don't have to worry about it."

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On this went, a chain of confidences, until they could scarcely make a move without first consulting the other. They were two peas in a pod, hardly ever seen apart. Once she speaks of what happened with Teddy, who knows how things will turn out? She took her sister's hands, and looked into blue eyes almost identical to her own.

"Victoire?"

"Teddy—he kissed me today."

A heartbeat. And then, "Oh."

"Should I go for it, Dee?"

A strange look crossed Dominique's face; it was cheerful, yes, but _too_ cheerful.

"I'm happy for you," was all she said. Well, if her sister said she's happy, then there's no reason for her to believe otherwise. Dominique has never lied to her since the Whiz-bangs, hasn't she?

They're stronger than that, Victoire hoped. They must be.

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**Tell me what you think! Reviews are greatly appreciated :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Written for Morning Lilies' Connect the Weasleys Challenge at HPFC. ****Prompts: Fred-Dominique; punctual**

**WARNING: Chapter contains implied addiction. Skip if squicky.**

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"You're late," she told her cousin.

"A wizard is never late, Dominique Weasley," he said, grinning impishly, "Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."

She shook her head. When Fred starts talking like this, odds are it's dialogue from one of those Muggle shows him and Grandpa Arthur love.

"Let me guess. It's the latest feature presentation at the, er—Cineplex near your home."

"No, it's actually a pretty old one. Came out when we were kids."

They were behind one of the greenhouses, in a corner cluttered by unused pots and shovels with broken handles. The last of the Herbology classes had ended half an hour ago, and it took forever for Professor Longbottom to go back to the castle, but he eventually did. Their Friday ritual will carry on as usual.

"You have it?" she said nervously. Fred rolled his eyes.

"No. I'm here 'cause I get kicks out of seeing worms and shit." He flipped a box her way, and Dominique caught it with both hands. She never asked where he got the fags, and she never would.

"Hey. You're trembling like a broom without a braking charm. What's wrong? Prefect duties finally getting to you?"

Dominique shook her head and lit up, giving the box back to Fred, who got a stick for himself.

Relief. It swells, from her throat down to her lungs, unfurling, brushing her inside. Her eyes blurred, and she realized with a start that it was tears.

"What in Grindelwald's—are you crying?" Fred whispered.

Dominique hastily wiped the tears, and he fidgeted. This was turning out to be quite the departure from their usual Friday. Last week, they talked about what's on the gossip columns in the _Prophet_, what they'd do if they saw two professors kissing, and where one might hypothetically obtain non-tradeable materials if one were hypothetically inclined. Rule number one; keep it light at the greenhouses. They have their fill of family drama everywhere else.

"Victoire and Teddy have been together for two weeks now," she said.

"So pop the champagne, Lupin finally grew a pair!"

They fell silent. Dominique leaned back against the wall surrounding the castle and took long, steady drags, letting the smoke curl around her face as she exhaled. She watched Fred get another stick, and she took another one herself.

"When you get out of Hogwarts," she began, "What'll you do?"

"Take over the shop, I suppose. Roxanne's not the type to do it."

"Aren't you tired of it all?"

Fred's eyes widened. "Are you offing yourself? Because Victoire got a boyfriend?"

She found herself laughing. "No, you prat. Nothing like that."

Deep drag, exhale. "I'm just starting over elsewhere. Maybe without magic."

Fred looked puzzled. "Why?"

She punched his arm playfully. "Maybe I'm sick of your face," she said.

He shoved her back and laughed. They killed their lights and walked back to the castle.

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**The quote at the beginning is from Lord of the Rings. I have been waiting forever to include it in a fanfic. Also, I was unsure whether to rate this 'T' or 'M,' but I had to decide on something. This chapter should be M, but I'm not making the entire fanfic M on account of one chapter. Anyway, reviews are greatly appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Written for Morning Lilies' Connect the Weasleys Challenge at HPFC. Prompts: Fred/Roxanne, quarrel**

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Fred was not one to overthink. People who knew him best (and therefore, were most exasperated with him) would assert that he was not one to _think_, period. Most days, he'd agree with them. Tonight, though, he mulled over Dominique's cryptic statements from earlier.

In the Gryffindor common room, he occupied one of the chairs, feet across one armrest, head on the other, swinging his Beater's bat lazily. He dangled it, brought it up in an arc, and swung it back down.

If Dominique left, how would he slog through family Christmases? There was Grandpa Arthur, and James was cool, but—

His bat hit something with an ugly crack, and he craned his neck to see what it was. His sister cried out from across the room, and he realized that he'd smashed her astronomical model. Dimly, he recalled her setting it on the table beside his chair.

"Oh no, Roxanne! Here, let me help you." He brought out his wand, ready to repair the break, but she bounded across the room and snatched her glass dome away.

"Never mind, Fred. You've done enough damage," she snapped, running to the girls' dormitories. He sighed, letting his bat fall to the floor with a thump.

They'd never been friends. It was a curious concept to him. He saw it all the time, of course; growing up Weasley meant being surrounded by relatives. Law of numbers—there were simply too many of them, some were bound to be best mates. And some, like Roxanne and him, were far from it. They simply had nothing in common, except for the desire to get out of each other's hair.

_How could twins hate each other?_ Their mother would say, expecting no answer. Their father was more forgiving—his only wish is for them to not shout at each other when they're at the dining table. And now Fred learns that Dominique is planning to leave after school. He didn't want to admit it, but he thought that if Dominique goes away, it'll be harder on him than if his real sister left.

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She stared at the perfect little rings around Saturn, at the grains of sand meant to represent rocks the size of the Great Hall. Roxanne fixed the glass easily, and once she did, she brought it to her bed, drew the curtains shut, and just stared at the model.

Saturn has such regular little rings.

She'd saved up for this. She bought it even if they weren't allowed to use it in Astronomy. She just loved looking at the planets, seeing how regular and smooth they seemed to move. Like clockwork.

It was probably wrong of her to talk to Fred like that. Then again, if he wasn't swinging that stupid bat around, she wouldn't have did it. He's always showing off, always proving how much faster, or stronger, or funnier, or crazier he is than everyone else.

And yet—Roxanne thought, running a hand over the glass dome—why does she feel like she's missing out on something? She hasn't talked to her twin brother in three years. At least, not properly. But she couldn't bear the idea of coming up to him and striking up a conversation. He'd probably look at her strangely. Ask her if she's sick.

"Roxanne and I are nothing like each other," she overheard him say once. "You can't ask her to try for the Quidditch team; she won't know the first thing about it."

"She's not the type to go to a Muggle rock concert, Dominique."

"I don't think she does anything other than study, really."

Well, it's true that she didn't really like Quidditch, or rock concerts. But he couldn't know that for sure, he never talked to her. So, how dare he speak on her behalf? How dare he do anything on her behalf. More and more, she realized, she'd been wishing she was born alone.

She felt like she was alone most days, anyway.

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**Roxanne and Fred are not normally portrayed as twins, but I thought I'd give it a shot. Please tell me what you think about this chapter!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Written for Morning Lilies' Connect the Weasleys Challenge at HPFC. Prompts: Molly/Roxanne, shooting star**

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_Dear Cousin Roxanne, how is Hogwarts? _

_I am eating raisins and I wish you were here. I miss your star dome._

_Love Molly._

She folded up the bit of parchment with a smile and tucked it in her robes. She received a dozen or so of those notes already. When six-year-old Molly Weasley said she'd write every day, she meant it. Granted, most of the letters were one or two sentences long, but still. Roxanne resolved to get her Aunt Audrey and Uncle Percy nice gifts for Christmas. And some owl pellets for poor Medea.

At the Great Hall, she buttered a slice of bread and bit in, chewing slowly.

Molly and Lucy were the youngest in their family. Her uncle married much later than his brothers and sister, and his children became the older cousins' dollies. Everything they did was cooed over, or proclaimed adorable.

But where Lucy was a firebrand, Molly was silent. Roxanne first noticed this on their family trip last summer. The Potters sprang for tickets to Barcelona for everyone—the city was exquisite and the food lovely, but seven days in another land with the entire family made her restless.

Roxanne spent the first few days wandering the streets alone, map and travel book in hand, talking to amused locals in her broken Spanish. She was enjoying immensely until her mother found out, and forbade her to go anywhere without at least one other person.

She was sulking through dinner that night. Her dad kept shooting worried glances at her, but she pretended not to notice, looking at things and people to her right. Her eyes fell on Molly, who was sitting beside her, scribbling something out of view.

"Who's that?" she said.

"Halley," she said. Roxanne craned her neck to see a drawing of a girl, curly haired and smiling, holding a drawstring bag overflowing with pinpricks of light.

"This is a nice drawing, Molly."

"Thank you," the girl whispered, never looking up from the paper.

"I like stars too," she said, and she felt a rush of delight at Molly's eager look. For the rest of the night, the younger girl badgered her about Halley, some constellations, and when she could see Roxanne's astronomical model.

By the end of the trip, Molly wouldn't go anywhere without Cousin Roxanne.

After breakfast, she dashed off to the Owlery to mail her reply. First period was Potions, and she didn't want to be late. She reread her letter to her cousin one last time.

_Dear Molly,_

_Wow, I like raisins too! I'll bring some over next time we visit you. I'll also let you borrow the star dome._

_Hogwarts is alright. Did your mum or dad tell you about the ceiling at the Great Hall? You will love it._

_I was thinking of your question last time. I know I said no, but I changed my mind. Shooting stars might grant wishes, if you want something bad enough. I know one of mine came true._

_Write to me soon!_

_Love,_

_Roxanne_

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	6. Chapter 6

**Written for Morning Lilies' Connect the Weasleys Challenge at HPFC. Prompts: Molly/Al; guess**

**Warning: implied slash, skip if squicky**

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_Summer of that year_

Molly was on a swing and was pouting at her cousin Al. He was smiling, and she didn't like it. She knew all his smiles. _I Have a Surprise_ is her favorite, and _I Have a Great Idea _is the second. She likes _I Have a Secret_ the least; it means she'll have to guess. She pushed herself off the ground.

"Hogwarts?"

"Nope."

"Bears?"

"Think again."

She stopped swinging. "Polar bears?"

"I told you, it's not bears."

"Polar bears are not ordinary bears. They're from Poland."

Al chuckled. "They're not from there, love. They need lots of ice all year round." He grunted as he lifted her up from the swing and set her down.

"We have to get a move on. It's already dark," he said. They walked out of the park and started down the road back to Godric's Hollow.

"How about the Big Secret?"

* * *

Al smiled. He lifted an index finger to his lips and raised his eyebrows, and Molly did the same. Out of his pocket, he fished a photo. It was of a bracelet made of gold and jade, and looked like a band of shiny, uneven pastilles. Al watched Molly's eyes widen.

"It's a bracelet from Pippa Small's line," Al said breathlessly, though he knew it meant nothing to her. "It'll take forever to save up for this one, but it'll be worth it."

"Al, it's so pretty!"

"I know, honey. When I get it, you can borrow."

Since Molly found out about Al's secret, he'd taken a special liking to her. Mostly because he wanted to know what she told whom, but also because she knows. Apart from Louis, no one else does.

Molly thought it was a game, and treated it that way. Al knew he was treading on ice, but he'll take it for as long as it lasts. He's worried about his first year at Hogwarts; who knows what Molly will let slip when he's not around.

He took the bracelet off and pocketed it. She was talking about how it reminded her of a picture in an illustrated astronomy book. In the middle of describing a favorite constellation, she yelped.

"I have a secret, too!" she gushed, and looked hopefully up at Al. He smiled.

* * *

"Oh, alright…is it about stars?"

"Nope."

"Er, shoes?"

"Nuh-uh. It's about Victoire," Molly said, unable to contain her excitement. Al inclined his head and told his cousin to go on. While he's not chummy with his Uncle Bill's eldest, this might be interesting.

"I saw Teddy writing to her. I know it's a love letter because he crumpled it and didn't throw it properly, and I picked it up and read it. Teddy fancies Victoire a lot."

Al felt like he'd been sucker-punched.

"Are you sure it's by Teddy, Molly?"

"I saw him writing, and he signed it and all." He tried to muster a smile at what Molly said, and to go down the last two blocks without screaming.

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	7. Chapter 7

**Written for Morning Lilies' Connect the Weasleys Challenge at HPFC. Prompts: Louis/Al; storm**

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Al stood in front of the door, scratching his head. He'd been there for minutes, and he's starting to doubt the Sorting Hat's decision to put him in this house.

"Could you repeat it, please?" he said meekly.

"What is the noise of a twigless broom?" the beak said. The inflection never changes, but if it did, Al would be certain it'll sound exasperated by now. Maybe he should wait for people to come in.

"Merlin's beard, how long've you been here?"

"Louis! A while," he said, grinning sheepishly. "It's 'what is the noise of a twigless broom?' and honestly…"

His cousin faced the door. "Same as that of a single hand clapping," he said.

"Astute," the beak said, revealing the passageway. The cousins climbed in. When they reached the common room, Louis patted Al on the head.

"It needs some getting used to," he said with a smile. His gaze fell on the tall windows, and the smile turned into a worried frown. "Oh no. Looks like I can't give you the tour that I promised. It's going to rain; those dark clouds mean business."

Al, who wasn't looking forward to staining his new robes, nodded. "It's okay, we can stay in. Maybe play chess or something," he said.

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"How're you holding up? Knight takes e6."

"What do you mean? Pawn takes Knight e6."

"Word on the Weasley vine is, Teddy and Vic are dating. Bishop to b3."

Raindrops pelted the tall windows, students buzzed in the background, and Al frowned. He's not sure if this is a ploy on Louis' side to distract him, but he did want to talk about it.

"Rook to b8. I could care less," Al said, and Louis chuckled.

"You're over Teddy? Since when?"

"Summer, when Molly told me that he wrote her a love letter."

"Huh. You're taking it better than Dee, at least…"

Al didn't get the chance to ask Louis what he meant, because a hand clapped his shoulder. He turned to see Dominique, and he gulped. How much did she hear?

"All right, boys?" she said. Louis nodded at his sister.

"Yeah. Bonding a bit with Albus—we were supposed to see the grounds, but you know. Rain."

Dominique gave him an apologetic look, and Al waved weakly. "Well, I'll be patrolling now," she said, disappearing into the passageway.

* * *

"What did you mean by Dominique? a7."

"Oh, she kind of hates Teddy. Bishop to b6," Louis said. Al was confused. How can anyone hate Teddy? Sweet and quiet and intelligent—

"a6," Al said. Louis brought a piece down with a flourish.

"Queen takes Rook b8, and checkmate."

Al watched his king throw its crown at the other queen's feet. "Not fair, you distracted me!" He scowled at his cousin, and Louis shrugged, smiling.

"Don't talk so much next time. Hey, Leah Kaufman has the latest _Couture Robes _issue, want to see it?" Al nodded, and eagerly followed Louis to some third years across the room. He is the coolest.

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